Homewrecker
by lalameanstulip
Summary: As Hermione Granger cotinues her affair with Draco Malfoy she must face her own inshakable guilt, society's scrutiny, and of course find a few good hiding places when Draco's girlfriend comes by. But how long will she let this go on for the man she loves?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters for that matter. They all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I probably don't even own this plot, and if I do own this plot and the story turns out to be terrible, then thanks, I tried. :] Feel free to comment or flame, their will be no annoying cookie bribery or desperate "This is my first story so be nice" pleas.

Chapter 1.

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><p>She knew it was wrong. She knew in her heart that what she was doing wasn't right. She was part of the golden trio, she was the brightest witch of her generation, She was Hermione Jean Granger for god sakes! She never did anything wrong!<p>

And yet...

Here she was, apparating to his flat at exactly 8:15 like she did everyday. Pretending not to see the little feminine articles strewn across his apartment: A wrinkled work blouse here, a tube of lipstick there, and the faint smell of cherry blossom perfume that wafted in and out of the halls...

She knew he had a girlfriend. She had introduced them to each other, not on purpose of course, but she had. What she didn't want to acknowledge, what she didn't **know** she told herself firmly, was that he had let her move in. That he was getting serious with his girlfriend, and Hermione was still here. Sitting in the shadows, waiting for what would happen next.

She had apparated right outside his door like always. The golden number 213 shining in the early morning sun, She thought of a cover story, just in case Bekah was running late, and then she knocked on the door. 2 light taps and 1 pounding knock. This was the easy part, the routine.

The hard part was when he opened the door eyes still heavy with sleep, and invited her to come in. The hard part was when she pushed back her guilt and walked into an apartment that still smelled like her, when she sat down at a counter that still had her breakfast on it. The hard part was when he made her coffee in Bekah's coffee mug, when he kissed her and she smelled her night wash cream. The hard part was when she left at 9:00 o' clock, telling herself this was the last time she would do this, and already longing to see him tommorow...The door swung open. Revealing, as always, two sleepy dark blue eyes, a mess of white-blonde hair, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose that he hid with concealment charms.

She loved those freckles, the way his hair spiked out around his ears, his eyes. She loved **him** so much. He bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth, smirking. "Good morning Hermione." He whispered. Voice thick with sleep. He picked her up before she could answer, running through the apartment and bypassing the little kitchenette completely before throwing her down on the soft king sized bed, still warm, and kissed her wrist, her elbow, her forehead.

Hermione laughed, grabbing his face in both of her hands and lifting his eyes to hers. She kissed the tip of his nose, both of his fluttering eye-lids, before laying her head on his chest, listening to his uneven breathing, erratic heartbeat. He lay his hands on the back of her head, the small of her back, trapping her into him. Content to just lay there all day holding her, not making a sound. "I missed you, Draco" Hermione whispered hands fingering the hem of his t-shirt, ear still pressed to his chest, and she felt his heart start to beat faster.


	2. Chapter 2

"I missed you too, Hermione. So much." Draco whispered, his breath blowing past her ear, making her shiver. She rolled out of his arms and headed for the kitchenette, stripping off her hot heavy work robes as she went. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?" Hermione yelled down the hallway. "Of course not." Draco replied "You know I'm absolute rubbish at cooking. I'd starve to death if you didn't come around every day." Hermione smiled and got a frying pan out of one of the bottom shelves, levitating two eggs from the fridge and cracking them mid-air over the burning skillet. The eggs started cooking immediately. "Mmm they smell great." Draco murmured wrapping his arms around her. Hermione jumped, she hadn't even realized he'd left the bedroom. Draco cuddled his nose into the side of her neck, sniffing. "Or maybe it's just you, eh?" He carefully moved a piece of hair behind her ear and was about to kiss her neck when Hermione pulled away, still watching the eggs.

"Hey, come on love." Draco said trying to pull her back into his arms, but Hermione grabbed a spatula instead flipping the eggs over, she was shaking.

"I called you last night." Hermione said coolly. She pushed past Draco to get to the plates; they were in the second cupboard to the left. It was always one of Hermione's biggest fears that Bekah would invite her to come over sometime for coffee (like she'd been promising for weeks.) How would she explain why she knew where their dinner plates were, where they kept their extra shampoo and towels, and even where they hid a box of old photos, the moving kind, mostly of Hermione, and some of Goyle, Ron, and Harry playing quidditch.

"Um, what was that love?" Draco asked, his voice trembling slightly. Hermione put the plates down and scraped the eggs out of the pan. They were perfect, greasy and brown and fluffy. Both of their stomachs growled. "I said" Hermione turned around; shoving the plate into Draco's chest "I called you last night."

"iiz dat righ?' Draco mumbled around a mouthful of eggs. Hermione nodded "Weh, I wah preddy busy las nigh." Draco said looking up from his plate. "That's what I thought" Hermione said "So I decided I wouldn't bother you and I went to a pub with Ginny instead." She looked at him meaningfully. Draco swallowed his food, eyes widening a little bit. "A-a pub?" He asked "You uh, remember the name by any chance?" He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt nervously. Hoping she wouldn't say The Three Broomsticks.

Hermione shrugged "You know, I don't think I do…I got a little drunk actually." She chuckled. "I can't remember much of anything last night." Draco heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, but wait." Hermione said face crinkling up in thought. "I do remember one thing…" She looked at him coolly and evenly. Then moved so she was facing directly in front of him with her arms down to her sides. "I remember…"

And just like that her arm swung out. Her fist connected with his jaw. He saw stars and he could already taste the blood welling up in his mouth. She still had one hell of a right hook. "I remember that you proposed to her last night you little weasel bastard!" Hermione yelled at him. He tried to crawl away but suddenly she was on top of him, pinning his shoulders down with her knees, punching him over and over.

"You! Weasel! Bastard!" She screamed, tears streaming down her face. After a while her punches started to die down, her sobs started to get louder. She gave one last swing, her fist glancing off of his chest pathetically, before crawling off to the corner of the kitchen, sobbing.

Draco pushed himself onto his knees, the kitchen floor was a bloody mess, he couldn't imagine what his face must look like, or how many concealment charms it would take to hide it. He wiped the back of his hand across his face and it came off red. "Shit." Draco murmured. "That fucking _hurt_."

"You deserved it." A small voice choked out. Draco looked in the corner where Hermione was huddled. Her eyes were puffy and pink, her bushy hair flying around her head like a tangled brown halo, and tear streaks were running down her face. She looked scared, and small.

"Oh, Hermione." Draco whispered, huddling over to the corner, he tried to lift his hand to her cheek, but she flinched away. "Don't you dare _touch_ me." Hermione cried. Scooting as far into the wall as she could. Her lips were quivering, and her voice was tight from fighting back tears she didn't want him to see. She looked like a broken, vulnerable, animal. All Draco wanted to do was hold her.

Instead he sat on the opposite side of the kitchen, hands up in the air, signaling surrender. Hermione crouched to her feet, looking at the door; she looked back at him, probably trying to figure out if he was going to keep her from leaving. When he didn't make a move she sprinted, legs moving faster than Draco thought was even possible. She'd made it to the door before he could even call out her name.

Draco looked down at the bloody tiles, waiting for the door to slam shut. So he was confused when he heard tiny footsteps shuffling towards him, he looked up, praying to god it wasn't Bekah. But there was Hermione, still heartbroken, still crying, still a hot mess, but she had a wet rag in her hand. "Here to suffocate me I suppose?" Draco laughed, looking back at the tile. "Ruining god's gift to man wasn't good enough, eh?" He gestured to his face.

Hermione let out a tiny, tired sounding chuckle. She was even more surprised than Draco when it came out. She crouched down, using his shoulders as a balance before taking the wash cloth and gently wiping the blood off of his forehead. "I felt bad" Hermione whispered, tiny hands shaking, not meeting Draco's eyes. "About ruining your face and causing such a scene and all." She took a weak shaking breath, and Draco saw a tear fall and splash against the floor. The wash cloth traveled over his cheeks, where dark blue bruises were forming. Draco swallowed around the painful lump in his throat.

"And why would you feel bad?" Draco croaked out. The rag glided across his lips and went down to his neck. There must have been more blood than he thought. Awesome. Hermione didn't speak for a long time, until Draco thought that she must not have heard him. He decided to just shut up and let her clean him up, even if it did make him feel like an ass.

She only spoke up when she got to the collar of his night shirt. "You're going to have to take that off.' She gestured to his bloody tank top. Draco smirked. "Can't leave without one last look at the merchandise eh?" He frowned when tears welled up in her eyes again. God. He was such an ass. He did as she said and pretty soon everything was silent again.

"I feel bad because I'm the other women." Hermione whispered. It was so quiet, if Draco hadn't been so focused on watching her he probably wouldn't have heard her at all. "I don't have a right to cause a scene, you know? When I'm the mistress." He took a deep breath, feeling the cold water brush across his stomach. "It never bothered you before." He said. They locked eyes. "I never thought you loved her before." Hermione whispered. "I just thought you were too much of a pansy to break up with her."

Draco laughed, a big booming I'm so glad to be alive laugh. "I **am **too much of a pansy to break up with her." Draco said. "That's why I'm **marrying** her." Draco looked up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on the fly buzzing around and not how low _Hermione's hand_, Um, that is, the wash cloth was going. He noticed that Hermione was trying to focus on other things too; she was extremely fascinated by a dust bunny that was lying under the stove.

"She picked out the ring and everything." Draco went on. "I didn't even know I was going to propose to her until she slipped the ring box out of my pocket last night." Draco chuckled. "I didn't even know she put the damn thing in there. If I had I would've thrown my jacket into the fireplace as soon as we walked in."

He felt something wet on his stomach again, but this wasn't the cold wet wash rag. No, this water was _warm_, and tiny. Like raindrops. Hermione was crying again.

He couldn't take it anymore, He crushed her to his body, feeling her hot tears slip into the valley between his shoulder and his neck. Her little body was spasming, and her hands were knotted in his hair. "D-do do you love h-her?" Hermione choked out, fingers tightening in his hair, he didn't think she'd ever let go, he knew he sure as hell didn't want her to.

"Not as much as you." He whispered peppering kisses anywhere his lips could reach her, her hair, her ear, her salty tasting teardrops. "Oh **god, **not near as much as you." He cried. He waited for her spasming to stop but it only got worse, her shoulders were heaving and he didn't know if she was breathing or not, it all just sounded like one long, sad, painful scream to him. "If only that were enough." She whispered hands letting go of his hair and falling limply to her sides. "If only that were enough."


End file.
